


Holding

by Jain



Category: Psych
Genre: Character of Color, Community: you_know_thats_right, Gen, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-07
Updated: 2010-03-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:59:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jain/pseuds/Jain





	Holding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [travelinthedark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/travelinthedark/gifts).



"If you need to pee, it's okay. I promise I won't look," Shawn said.

Gus turned an expression on him that seemed composed of equal parts disbelief and righteous anger, before he stomped over to the far wall and leaned against it. "I'm not talking to you."

"Oh, stop being such a crankypants," Shawn said. "It's not like we've never been arrested before." He leaned with studied casualness against the bars behind him, then straightened up rather quickly when they pressed uncomfortably against his shoulderblades.

Gus's pissy face got even pissier. "First of all, that argument is _not_ helping your case. And, secondly, there's a big difference between being arrested by the SBPD, who employ us and who, even more importantly, used to employ your dad, and being arrested by the Paso Robles Police Department, who have no idea who we are and who will treat us like the suspected criminals whom we appear to be, thanks entirely to you. This is a big deal, Shawn. I could lose my job over this."

"Gus, we are _this_ close to catching the burglar, and as soon as we've proven our innocence, the PRPD will change our arrest records to reflect that. Nothing to worry about."

"And how are we supposed to catch the burglar from behind bars?"

"My dad will bail us out."

Gus quirked an eyebrow at him skeptically. "I thought you said that he wasn't willing to be financially responsible for your screw-ups anymore."

"He did say that at one point, yes," Shawn said. "So I told him that you were good for the money."

"Shawn!"

"Gus!" Shawn mimicked. "Your 401K and Roth IRA and whatever other moneybagsy accounts you've accumulated are totally safe. You can just expense it."

"With whose money? Ours? The Psych checking account currently contains fourteen dollars and seventy-two cents. And I don't think that the SBPD will sympathize with our being arrested while freelancing, especially since this case falls outside their jurisdiction by over a hundred miles."

Shawn's feet had begun to hurt by this point, and he sat on the floor, ignoring Gus's moue of distaste. With slightly greater difficulty, he also ignored the disturbing tackiness of the floor.

The moue became a bit more pronounced, and Shawn buckled under the strain. "What?" he said defensively. "It's not as though there're any chairs in here. I promise not to sit on the floor anymore once they've moved us out of the holding cell."

"How comforting."

"I do my best." Shawn fixed Gus with a reassuring look. "And, since it wasn't mentioned before, I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to worry about what might happen to you should we be moved into the regular cells before our bail money arrives. Until we're sprung out of here, you can be my bitch."

"Shawn, please," Gus said. "_Which_ of us was it who achieved a yellow belt in karate?"

"I took karate, too," Shawn protested.

"For one and a half lessons. Then you decided that you'd rather hone your martial arts skills playing Street Fighter."

"It's a sound strategy," Shawn said.

"It's an embarrassment," Gus corrected. "A true practitioner of--"

Just then, a police officer came through the door, keys to the holding cell in her hand.

"I call dibs on the top bunk," Shawn said quickly.

"Actually, you're both being released on bail," she said.

"Ha! I told you Dad would come through," Shawn said, punching Gus in the upper arm.

"You also told him that _I'd_ be the one responsible for repaying him," Gus said sourly, though he managed a dazzling smile for the police officer as she unlocked the door to their holding cell.

"True, but it's not like he isn't going to make me cough up my half, anyway," Shawn said.

"If we were being really fair, you'd cover the entire amount, considering that I never would have been on that camel without your dragging me up after you."

"That's what partners are for, Gus. We share the good times and the bad. And, speaking of which, I promised Dad that in addition to repaying him for the bail money, we'd wash his truck this weekend, maybe do a few other chores. If you have anything planned for this Saturday, it would probably be best to reschedule."

There was a brief, outraged silence, and then Gus shook his head. "I'm not talking to you," he said. "Again."

The road from Paso Robles to Santa Barbara was long and quiet; without the alphabet game and a personal count-the-roadkill competition, Shawn might have been very bored.


End file.
